Nachos That Shouldn’t Have Worked

Today’s special: regret chips with a side of spice confusion.

It’s National Clean Up Your Pantry Day—a time to confront the sad, dusty graveyard of forgotten ingredients hiding behind your better choices. But instead of tossing that weird stuff out, I did what any unhinged culinary optimist would do: I turned it into nachos.

I call them Pantry Nachos: Chaos on a Tray.

Step one: open the cabinet. Step two: flinch. Step three: start building. I found a quarter-bag of stale blue corn chips, a dented can of black beans from the pre-streaming era, some aggressively pickled jalapeños, and a nearly empty bottle of peach barbecue sauce. Did I hesitate? Yes. Did I stop? No. Because this wasn’t just nacho making—it was Nacho Roulette.

Every bite was a dare. One chip had cumin-dusted garbanzo beans and honey mustard. One had shredded coconut and hot sauce. One—somehow—tasted like regret and cinnamon. The point wasn’t flavor harmony. The point was bravery.

Pantry nachos don’t follow rules. They don’t apologize. They just ask, “How far are you willing to go for crunch?”

The result? Surprisingly edible. Deeply chaotic. Emotionally cleansing.
And hey—my pantry has never looked better.

Image created using DALL·E.